


Euphemisms

by salvabon



Category: The Lone Gunmen (TV), The X-Files
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Gender Dysphoria, Post-Episode: s05e03 Unusual Suspects, Trans John Byers, Trans Male Character, and no jumping them, metaphorical sharks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:21:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27271096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salvabon/pseuds/salvabon
Summary: John Fitzgerald Byers has been living with the rest of the Lone Gunmen for a couple of weeks now, just about as long as he has been out as trans. Waking up with horrible dysphoria was not part of the plan though.
Relationships: John Byers & Melvin Frohike & Richard "Ringo" Langly
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3
Collections: Trans Mulder Literary Universe





	Euphemisms

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FlannelGuy51](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlannelGuy51/gifts).



> Surprise! I wrote some more super niche content!   
> @ Jack - I hope you enjoy it.   
> @ Everyone else - I am already surprised you are reading this, hope you're having fun. 
> 
> This is compliant with the Trans Mulder Literary Universe and @FlannelGuy51 Rebirth fic.

Byers woke up feeling awful. As he tried to rise, a sudden cramp made him buckle over and his eyes flew to the little calendar on his night stand: it was the last week of the month. He had lost track of time completely in the latest stress. He had moved in with his new friends, Melvin Frohike and Richard "Ringo" Langly, to facilitate the start of their little newspaper - The Lone Gunman.   
They had to organize printing, layout, distribution, all while making ends meet. It was going to be a rough start, but that was nothing new to either of the three.   
Byers still couldn't believe that all of this was happening, not just the newspaper but also the start of a new life. After their recent near-death experience, Byers had made a decision. A decision that had much to do with Special Agent Fox Mulder, whom they had met when trying to help Susanne Modeski, and had inadvertently outed himself as trans in the process. Agent Mulder, in turn, had been the first soul Byers came out to as trans himself. It had been perhaps the scariest thing he had ever done, and that was including when he almost got executed for uncovering a conspiracy against the American people the day before. The FBI Agent had immediately supported him of course, even providing him with a binder - a piece of fabric Byers now wondered how he could have ever lived without.   
As Byers stretched to get rid of the paralysing cramps, he became all too aware that he was not wearing a binder at the moment. He had followed his new friend's safety advice and made sure to only wear it a couple of hours a day and never to bed - even if he really wanted to do so. When he finally stood up, a rather colourful swear escaped his lips as he saw the red stains on his freshly washed and starched sheets. He completely stripped his bed and threw everything into a laundry basket, to be dealt with some time after breakfast.   
Now he had to go into the bathroom to get ready for the day, an activity he was really not looking forward to. But what was he supposed to do? He couldn’t go to the breakfast table soaked in blood, and he knew that hot water was the one thing that usually helped him with the cramps. That and painkillers, which he very strictly only took after getting something into his stomach.   
Byers simply turned off the light, another trick he had learned from his new friend and mentor, and tried to ignore the general feeling of dread he was experiencing. Mulder had called it dysphoria, finally giving Byers a word for a feeling that had haunted him all his life. It was like someone had only told him now about the colour yellow.   
Byers kept his routine short and automated. He did not want to think about any of it, he did not want to see the blood, or his body, or feel any of these feelings tightening his chest.   
He simply wanted to step into the shower, out of the shower, and get dressed. Was that so hard?   
It was going to be okay, he told himself over and over again as he slipped into a binder and right on top a nicely tailored suit. Wearing suits usually helped him feel better but today he couldn’t shake the feeling that it looked awkward on him, that it looked like an ill-fitting costume. When he made the mistake of looking into the mirror, a face stared back that wasn’t alien to him but not entirely himself either. It just looked off today, like when you flip an image. Or when you stare at a word too long and it loses all meaning. He had just been through his first couple of testosterone shots, something he hadn’t even been aware of existed until very recently. The injections weren’t exactly comfortable, but Byers had been very excited for them and the changes they promised. Today he couldn’t see much of any change. For a second, he feared that these treatments were some kind of elaborate joke, something just to prank him with false hope and his fear of needles. But Mulder also said that it took time for the first changes to occur and that the progress could be a little different for everyone. And they clearly had worked for him, right?  
All he could do today was hope he was on the right way, and that he wouldn’t bleed through is nice new suit. His cotton pyjamas went on top of his bedsheets in the laundry basket.   
He walked into the small communal kitchen rubbing his eyes and looking forward to the ibuprofen waiting for him after breakfast.   
“Morning, dude,” his flatmate Langly greeted him, leaning back in his chair with his legs on the table. He was chewing on some cornflakes and Byers simply got a clean bowl from the cupboard and poured himself a portion as well, sitting down wordlessly.   
Byers was grateful that his new friends had reacted quite positively to his coming out, even disclosing their own identities to him.   
“What are you wearing the suit for, Byers? Got a meeting with the printers later?”   
“No. Can’t I just wear a suit because I feel like it?” Byers noticed the cold snappy tone in his voice, but it was already too late. He also noticed how high his voice still sounded and promptly told his brain to shut up about it.   
“Wow, okay dude, just wanted to ask.” His friend threw up his hands in a defensive gesture.   
Just then Frohike walked in, completing the newly formed trio.   
“Nice suit, buddy,” he greeted and gave him a pat on the shoulder before throwing two slices of bread in the toaster.   
“Wait,” he stopped in his tracks. “Is today the meeting with the printers?”   
Langly did a cutting motion over his throat and interjected an “already asked that”.   
Byers took a deep breath. He didn’t want to get riled up about this. He wanted to ignore the world and eat his cornflakes, maybe curl up into a ball later with a warm water bottle. What he didn’t want was confrontation.   
“No,” he heard himself say through his teeth. “The meeting is on Friday.”  
Somehow this just made Frohike and Langly bicker about something, printing prices maybe, to be honest Byers wasn’t exactly paying attention.   
“Can you just shut up for like five minutes?” He snapped and immediately regretted his words. Before any of them could react to this he had already added a “sorry” and averted his look. His friends hadn’t deserved this. They had been there for him this entire time. Even though they had only known each other for a couple of weeks, Byers had never felt more accepted than with these two nerds. He shouldn’t have lashed out at them, that was stupid of him. Just as he was thinking about it, another cramp rolled over his body and, against all efforts on his side, made him wince again.  
“Are you okay there, buddy?”   
Byers nodded, taking a sip from the orange juice on the table to swallow the pill he had kept in his suit pocket.   
He didn’t want to bother them with this. He had just lashed out at them, completely unfairly, so he really shouldn’t cause them any more concern. They had already done so much for him. Frohike and Langly had been there for his shots, helped him with his haircut and newly improved wardrobe, and always made sure no one misgendered him. Frohike had even threatened to beat up someone who had made a rather rude comment once.   
“You really don’t look okay,” Langly observed and placed an emptied bowl in front of him.   
“It’s nothing,” Byers explained away but then sighed.   
“Hey,” Frohike walked over to him, toast in one hand and the other now placed on his shoulder. “You can tell us, it’s okay.”   
“I’m,” Byers started, unsure how to phrase it.   
“I’m on my period.”   
He still didn’t meet their eyes, but he felt the silence in the room. His friends might have accepted him as a man now, but he couldn’t lie to himself or them and pretend that he magically was the same as other guys now (or at least those assigned male at birth, another one of these new words Mulder had taught him). He felt like a fraud now, like an impostor.   
“That sucks,” Langly threw into the room and awkwardly leaned over to pat him on the shoulder, almost falling from his chair in the process.   
“You can say that again,” Byers answered with a forced smile.   
“Anything we can do to help?” Frohike asked, toast still in his hand uneaten.   
“I don’t know, it just really sucks.”   
Langly nodded: “Hell yeah it does, dude! It’s such a stupid name as well. We should call it something super manly, like Shark Week.”   
The last two words were accompanied by a big sweeping gesture.   
At least it made Byers chuckle.  
“With all due respect, that is the stupidest thing you have said today.”  
“Yet.”  
“Yet.”  
Frohike shook his head and finally took a bite from his toast. “Shark Week,” he muttered to himself.  
“Nothing manlier than Shark Week,” their friend justified himself.   
“As much as I hate to admit it, I do prefer Shark Week to any of the alternatives.”   
This got a high five from Langly.   
Byers refilled his bowl with another portion of cornflakes, feeling much better already.   
“Sorry about the suit thing,” Langly apologized. “I just don’t want to miss another appointment. The last guy was so pissed.”   
Frohike said down in the third chair and opened a notepad.  
“We do need to go shopping today. Any special wishes?”   
Byers thought for a second.   
“Chocolate? All those sharks are making me crave chocolate.”   
“Manly Chocolate,” Langly corrected. “Let’s get this man some manly chocolate.”  
With anyone else, Byers would have probably felt made fun of, but seeing his friend write down ‘Manly chocolate for Byers’ in big block letters was the highlight of the week.   
“Do you have enough painkillers? Oh, I need to go to the drug store anyway, I’ll just pick some up. Any other equipment? I’ll get it for you.”   
“You mean shark repellant?”   
The kitchen broke out in laughter, and he felt his dysphoria slowly leaving his body as the three just sat there, all of them coming up with more and more ludicrous metaphors. Byers felt great.

**Author's Note:**

> Fun Fact: Shark Week started in 1988, one year before this fic is set. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
